


Peter Parker’s Comprehensive Guide of How Not to Escape Avengers Tower

by NamelesslyNightlock



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: DUM-E really loves his fire extinguisher, Escape Attempts, Fluff, Gen, Halloween, Humor, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki should stop encouraging him, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker also needs a self-preservation instinct, Peter vs Avengers, and also smoothies, both of those are unfortunately related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 09:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16426937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: It’s just… it’s notfair. Not only does Peter have thebestHalloween costume – how many times is he ever going to be able to show off the Spider-Man suit and not look suspicious? – but he also knows that Mr Stark is going to be out there. With theAvengers. This was hisone chanceto show them what he could do!And if Mr Stark isn’t going to let him– well. Peter got pretty good at sneaking out over the past year or so. Getting out of Avengers Tower can’t be any more difficult than avoiding Aunt May on a curfew rampage, right?Right?





	Peter Parker’s Comprehensive Guide of How Not to Escape Avengers Tower

**Author's Note:**

> It's not quite Halloween yet, but I had way too much fun writing this to hold onto it. 
> 
> Big thanks to [whimsyandsomething](https://whimsyandsomething.tumblr.com) for the header, and, I mean, really. I messaged her at almost midnight with a request for a header with ‘Avengers Tower, a bat, messy handwriting, and maybe some green goo’. She has to put up with so much. (I’ve also been told to inform you all that she will be willing to fulfil any other “wondrously specific requests” that anyone else might have.)

 

It wasn’t fair.

It was Halloween, and Aunt May had decided to go on a trip. Okay, so she hadn’t _decided_ , it had been decided for her, and it totally wasn’t her fault. And to be honest, when Peter had first found out that he was going to be allowed to go and stay with Mr Stark in Avengers Tower he was ecstatic.

A whole week, hanging out with the Avengers?

 _Awesome_.

He’d spent it playing video games with Hawkeye and getting Black Widow’s help with his History homework. (Captain America, it turned out, was terrible at History. Just because you lived seventy years closer to 1775 than anyone else apparently didn’t make you 70% better at knowing how many lanterns Paul Revere had.) And, okay, so he hadn’t _really_ needed help with chemistry, but how was he supposed to pass up the chance to get advice from _the_ Bruce Banner?

It had been epic, possibly one of the best weeks of Peter’s _life_ , and he was just so totally sure that Halloween was going to top it off.

But then Mr Stark had told him that he wasn’t allowed to go, and it _just wasn’t fair._

“Come _on_ ,” Peter tried, fully aware of the fact that he sounded like a whiny child but totally unable to stop it anyway. “I’ve already arranged with Ned. No one’s going to know the suit’s real, I just want to—“

“Okay, no,” said Mr Stark, holding up a hand for emphasis. “Please tell me you didn’t just imply that someone could mistake one of _my_ creations for some cosplay outfit made by a high schooler.”

Peter winced. “No?”

“Good.”

“But you know, you shouldn’t underestimate cosplayers, some of them are—“

“Kid.” Mr Stark levelled him with the driest look ever. “I’ve been to enough conventions, and I’ve been freaked out by more than one person with an impression that was just a little bit too good. Please, just, don’t.”

“Ooookay.” Peter paused a moment, considering, but decided it would be better not to ask that question when he was trying to get into Mr Stark’s good graces. (Maybe he’d ask Hawkeye later.) Instead, he said, “But what if I wear something else, then? If I could borrow one of Loki's capes I’m sure I could muster up a decent Dementor—“

“Stop,” said Mr Stark, narrowing his eyes. “Why do you want to go, anyway? If you want candy, JARVIS can order some in for you—“

“It’s not about the candy, it’s _fun_ ,” Peter implored. “It’s the one day a year when you can dress up as anyone you want and—“

“You dress up as Spider-Man all the time.”

“I _am_ Spider-Man.”

“A fact that I am unfortunately only far too aware of.” Mr Stark groaned, and rubbed his hands over his face in that typical exasperated thing that adults tended to do when Peter was being too bouncy. “Look, kid, I’m sorry,” he said, and he really sounded like he meant it. “It’s just too dangerous tonight.”

“ _What_! Mr Stark, come on, kids half my age go out trick or treating—“

“Yeah, but they _aren’t_ Spider-Man. I know you, kid, and I know that at the faintest smell of trouble—“

“I don’t _smell_ it, I told you, it’s a like a tingle—“

“—be running off to save the day, probably getting yourself hurt in the process. And I do _not_ want to be the person who has to tell May that her nephew got mugged by a vampire. Or, you know, some other thing that might be out there.”

“I can look after myself,” Peter grumbled. “You normally let me go out to stop bad guys.”

“Not on Halloween. All the crazies come out on Halloween.”

And that, apparently, was that.

So, Peter decided on the only logical course of action.

He was going to sneak out.

It’s not like Mr Stark left him with much of a choice.

The plan was derailed in the first five minutes, because.

Well.

There was a bat on the ceiling.

At first, Peter thought it was a Halloween decoration– a bit strange, to put up a single bat and nothing else but hey, it was the Avengers. Anything was possible.

But then it had moved, shifting its wings and staring down at him with big, round eyes and a decidedly unimpressed expression.

Peter narrowed his eyes at it. It didn’t look quite normal, and it was highly likely that the bat was in fact an animatronic spy, put there by Mr Stark as equal parts distraction and babysitter.

Or maybe it was a trap.

Deciding to be cautious, Peter backed away and headed for a different window.

He’d decided they would make the best exit, since JARVIS had the elevator on lockdown and Hawkeye had told him that if anyone used the stairwell, JARVIS was notified immediately. There was story there, he was _sure_ of it, and he’d be getting it out of someone eventually– after he’d figured out how to get out of the Tower, of course.

Peter’s first choice had, obviously, been the sliding glass doors that lead to the helipad on the common floor, since that was the entrance used by both Thor and Iron Man himself on a daily basis. But it was shut and being guarded by the possibly-robotic-bat, so instead, he went to the second most likely option– the window in Mr Stark’s penthouse. It was also large, and more of a door than a window itself, since Mr Stark liked to use it when he wanted to leave without risking company.

He approached it slowly, reaching out with his hands. He wasn’t too worried about setting off an alarm–

But if Mr Stark had left a trap of some kind, then, well. Peter didn’t even want to _think_ about it.

The window shifted under Peter’s fingers, and he grinned as it started to slide to the left. He could feel the cool October air on his cheek as the gap widened, first one inch, then two, and then—

“Good try, Mr Parker,” said JARVIS.

Peter nearly jumped out of his _skin_.

“Thanks?” he said, glancing upward as he tried to calm his heart rate. “Was it good enough for you to let me open the window the rest of the way?”

There was no response, but Peter thought it might be worth a try.

A useless try, as it turned out, because no matter how much Peter pulled, the damn thing wouldn’t even budge any further than it already had. And even _before,_ back when he was as skinny as a rake, Peter wouldn’t have been able to slip through a two inch gap.

Peter could lift a bus. What the hell had Mr Stark used on these windows???

Groaning dramatically in frustration, Peter spun on the spot—

And then he stopped, because—

Hanging from the light fitting, upside down and staring at Peter intently, was the bat.

Peter was pretty sure it was the same bat from before. It certainly looked the same, and– well, how many bats were likely to be hanging around Avengers Tower?

“Okay,” Peter said. “JARVIS, seriously. If this is you—“

“Mr Parker, I am an AI,” JARVIS said smoothly. “I am afraid that I do not yet have the ability to control living things.”

“Yeah well—“ Peter paused. “Wait, _yet?_ ”

There was no verbal response, but Peter could feel the amusement oozing from the walls.

“Hey, if you decide to start mind controlling people, do you think you’d be able to convince Mr Stark to change his mind?”

“Mr Parker, I doubt even magic could achieve such a thing.”

Snorting, Peter shook his head. “Yeah, that’s probably true. But hey, if it’s not you, does that mean this bat is actually real?”

The bat tilted its head, as if to say– _obviously, idiot._

Insulted by a bat. What a day.

“It is not of Mr Stark’s creation,” JARVIS confirmed, and Peter considered the bat once again.

“Well, you look like a real bat,” Peter said, tilting his head. The bat chirped– a high-pitched, almost clicking noise, like it was laughing or something. Peter grinned. “All right, I guess you can help. You probably don’t like being cooped up in here either, huh?”

The bat responded by stretching its wings and launching into the air, gliding down toward Peter. Peter held still as it flapped a bit and alighted on his shoulder, managing to hold on without digging its claws into Peter’s skin, despite the skin-tight suit. Peter supposed he had Mr Stark to thank for that, probably.

“You’re kind of cute, you know?” said Peter. He was already halfway to pulling out his phone to Google it when he remembered that there was a much easier way of doing things. “Hey, JARVIS? What type of bat is he?”

There was a short pause.

“JARVIS?”

“It does not appear to be a species native to New York, Mr Parker,” said JARVIS.

“Oh, cool,” said Peter, glancing down to the creature that had settled on his shoulder. “Come a long way, have you?”

The bat’s wings shifted, almost like it was shrugging. It was about the same size as the bats Peter sometimes saw flying around Queens, with a wingspan of maybe ten inches. It was darker in colour than the brown bats, though, and its eyes were larger while its ears were more rounded.

Peter paused.

How on Earth did a bat manage to get in, anyway?

The windows were all sealed, and JARVIS seemed to have every single one under a tight watch.

But, wait.

If the bat got in, then that meant—

“Hey,” said Peter, whispering to the bat on his shoulder. “Is there an open window or something around here? How did _you_ manage to get past security?”

“I can still hear you,” said JARVIS, his long-suffering tone somehow conveying the impression of rolled eyes. “However, I do not believe that bats can understand English.”

“Don’t be mean,” Peter chided, before turning back to the bat. “What do you think?”

Without warning, the bat jumped from Peter’s shoulder and flew across the room. Peter sighed, sad despite himself. It was kinda cool, having a bat to talk to. Very Halloweeny. (Not that he’d ever tell Michelle that though, she’d skin him alive. But it’s not like he was planning on _keeping_ it. He’d let it go as soon as he worked out how to get outside himself.)

He was pulled out of his thoughts by another round of chirpy clicks, and he glanced up to see the bat hanging from the lip over the elevator’s doors.

Huh.

Actually, that wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Mr Parker, I would strongly advise against this course of action,” JARVIS said, his voice sounding strange and distant.

“Shh, JARVIS, I’m concentrating.”

“Well I should hope so, considering one wrong move will send you plummeting to your death.”

“What? Oh, no, I’m not thinking about that. I’m trying to come up with a name for our new friend.”

The bat, which was being a total freeloader and just hanging on to Peter’s shoulder while Peter did all the work and climbed up the inside of the elevator shaft, chirped in agreement.

“I was thinking maybe Mortimer, or Gomez,” Peter mused, hardly paying attention as he lifted one of his hands and placed it above the other. Climbing had always been second nature. “You are a guy, right? Or are you a girl? What about Morticia?”

Peter felt a small pinch, and turned to see the bat staring at him innocently.

“Not Morticia, then? Oh, I know!” Peter grinned. “I’ll call you Bartok!”

Bartok almost looked like he was rolling his eyes, but that was impossible, right?

_Right?_

A flutter of wings and a metallic screech tore him from his thoughts, and Peter glanced up just in time to see something big and round and in possession of a rather sharp beak heading straight for him.

“Oh, shit,” Peter said. He could feel Bartok pressed against his neck as the small bat tried to get away from the bird. Peter tried to turn his head to shield him, but the bird was heading straight for his face—

He swatted at it with one arm, meaning that he was only stuck to the smooth wall by the tips of the fingers on just one hand—

The bird was still coming at him– it wasn’t hurting, but it was only a matter of time—

“Mr Parker!” JARVIS yelled, and Peter lost his grip.

“That,” said Peter, lying face down on Mr Stark’s expensive rug, “was _not_ fun.”

His shoulders ached from catching himself with his web-shooters, and his knees hurt from where he’d hit the side of the elevator shaft too quickly to get his feet under him.

Ugh. He was never going in such a narrow space ever again.

“Why the hell was there a pigeon in the elevator shaft, anyway?” Peter asked. “First bats, now birds. Does Avengers Tower have a pest problem?”

Bartok clicked indignantly, and Peter turned his head to give him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. You’re not a pest, of course, you’re awesome.”

“I’m afraid that _was_ one of Mr Stark’s creations,” JARVIS admitted. “There are a few of them roaming the vents of the Tower.”

Peter sat up in one quick movement, staring into the distance in confusion as he put on his best Terry Jeffords impression. “ _Why?”_

“Mr Stark has grown tired of Agent Barton interrupting his work or, occasionally, more intimate moments by falling through the ceiling,”

Peter grimaced. “Yeah, I see how that could be annoying. But still, robot birds? _Really?”_

“They have proven effective so far.”

“Well, there goes the vent plan. Any other ideas?”

“I am _not_ going to answer that.”

Peter was about to respond with a quip, something along the lines of how he was talking to Bartok, thank-you-very-much, since the bat had actually been _helpful_ —

But the hairs on the back of Peter’s neck prickled, and he jumped to his feet in a single smooth leap, staring out at the balcony where Mr Stark was already landing on the helipad, the Iron Man armour disassembling around him.

Well, crap.

Ignoring the sudden weight that attached itself to the top of his head, Peter launched himself across the room and landed on the couch with a thump. He gabbed the throw that was spread haphazardly over the back of the furniture and covered himself with it from his neck to the tip of his toes, making sure that every inch of the Spider-Man suit was out of view. By the time Mr Stark entered the room with a quirked eyebrow and an unimpressed stare, Peter looked _totally_ unsuspicious.

“I was about to watch a movie,” Peter said straight away, making sure to widen his eyes innocently.

“Oh yeah?” Mr Stark crossed his arms. “Which one?”

“Uhm…”

“The Nightmare Before Christmas, Sir,” said JARVIS, and Peter had to work not to let his jaw fall open in shock as the screen lit up with the beginning of that exact movie. _Bless you, JARVIS._

“Uh huh, right.” Mr Stark’s gaze passed over the TV screen, then the blanket, and then paused on the bat that was resting in Peter’s hair.

“This is Bartok,” Peter said quickly. “Say hi!”

Mr Stark raised his brows, though the corners of his lips were tugging up into the beginnings of a smile. “Really?” he asked, leaning closer for a better look. “Well then, hello, Bartok the Magnificent.”

Bartok huffed out a small breath of air, ruffling Peter’s fringe.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Are you here to tell me that I can leave? Or did you just come to be annoying?”

“Not the first one, maybe a little bit of the second.” Mr Stark grinned properly, then. “But actually, I just came to let everyone know that Thor has finally arrived. We should be able deal with, well.” He shot a wink at Peter that didn’t quite seem to hit its mark. “With whatever’s out there.”

“Right,” said Peter. “So you still don’t want my help?”

“Well—”

“In that case, I’d like to watch my movie in peace, please.”

Mr Stark seemed taken aback for a moment. Then he pressed his lips together, as if he were holding in a laugh. “Well, all right then, I won’t keep you.” He turned and strolled back out the window, Iron Man assembling once more as he waved over his shoulder. “Have a good evening!”

Peter waited until he was sure, one hundred and eighty nine per cent _sure_ that Mr Stark had flown away before he got out from under the blanket. The way that Mr Stark had just _left_ was a bit suspicious, but Peter didn’t want to stress about it. There were other things to worry about.

Like, for example, how the hell he was going to get into Mr Stark’s workshop.

Oh, sure, there wasn’t actually an escape route from there– if anything, it was the most secure room in the building. However. There _was_ likely to be something in there capable of opening the door to the roof.

Hey, if Mr Stark didn’t want him to use his initiative, he should have locked him somewhere without access to billion-dollar equipment capable of making cool explosions.

Not that Peter was going to use the billion-dollar equipment, though. He, um. He wouldn’t do that.

His explosion would be _cheap_.

Actually getting to the workshop was the most difficult bit, but even that went more smoothly than Peter could have hoped. JARVIS seemed to believe that he was joking when he said that he’d jump down the elevator shaft again (and yeah, okay, maybe he was, but JARVIS didn’t have to sound so _exasperated_ when he pointed it out). A threat to use the heavy granite coffee table to try and break a hole through the floor was thankfully more believable, though, and JARVIS let him use the elevator.

Peter’s access code into the actual workshop still worked fine–either JARVIS had given up by that point or, more likely, Mr Stark had requested that he keep his access, thinking it would give him something to do.

Peter was on a _roll_.

(To be honest, that was probably the thought that jinxed him.)

(...he should have known better.)

The moment he pushed open the door, Peter heard a faint _click._ Bartok immediately chirped a warning and flew off in the opposite direction– just in time, too, because—

The room shook with the force of a small explosion, Peter ducked, and then—

There was.

Green goo.

_Everywhere._

Peter looked at his hands. Then up to the ceiling.

“Seriously?” he asked, arching an eyebrow and trying not to wince as he felt a glob of the stuff drip down over his nose.

“It was DUM-E’s idea,” JARVIS said defensively. “Mr Stark said that his new experimental smoothie could probably be weaponised, and DUM-E thought this was a good chance to test the theory.”

Peter glanced to the helper bot in the corner, who waved his claw upon being noticed, sending globs of experimental smoothie flying everywhere.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Peter groaned, wiping his hands first over his face and then on his pants. “Look, guys. I just want to go trick or treating, okay? I don’t even want to go with the Avengers anymore, because if they don’t want me, why should I bother?”

“Now, that’s certainly not the case,” JARVIS said, but Peter took no notice.

“I thought that maybe this was my chance,” he said. “Maybe I could get out there, go trick or treating with my friends. And I wouldn’t go _looking_ for trouble, I swear, but if something happened, it would be my chance to show them all what I could do. To get debriefed by the Avengers, to get advice on where I went wrong, what I could have done better or, maybe things that I did right. I just wanted…” Peter shook his head, feeling something bubble up his throat as he snapped, “Why can’t you just let me _out_?”

“Mr Stark only wishes us to keep you safe, Mr Parker,” JARVIS said.

Peter laughed somewhat bitterly. “Really? Shouldn’t I get a say in what’s best for me?”

“I have over a decade’s practice looking after a person who will not stop putting themselves in danger,” JARVIS said loftily. “I think I know what I am doing.”

DUM-E beeped, probably adding something along the lines of how his years of experience outmatched even JARVIS’.

“Yeah, well, I’m not Mr Stark,” Peter huffed.

“That’s hardly relevant, Mr Parker. You will not get outside.”

Peter felt himself deflate, knowing that JARVIS was right. And he didn’t want to fight with them, anymore– he knew that they were only doing what Mr Stark told them– that, in his own way, JARVIS had even tried to make things better by entertaining Peter’s various escape attempts. Mr Stark was probably even only doing what he thought was best, but—

That didn’t mean that it was all right. He had been locked up like a kid, and he wasn’t even allowed to go and see his friend.

Bartok, who was somehow the only thing in the workshop that had managed to stay free of green smoothie, touched his claw to Peter’s cheek as if in comfort. Peter turned, and offered him a smile.

“Guess you’re stuck in here a bit longer, too,” Peter said, apologetic.

Bartok huffed, clearly irritated. Then he spread his wings and flew into the air, his wings almost looking like they were glowing.

No, wait, scratch that—

He _was_ glowing, a bright green that looked way too familiar to be a coincidence.

And then, standing tall in the middle of the workshop, right where Bartok had been only moments before, was Loki.

“Okay,” said Peter, quite possibly feeling a little stunned. “I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting that.”

At least it explained why JARVIS couldn't identify the type of bat, though, since Loki was probably pretending to be some kind of alien species. Then again, JARVIS might have known it was Loki and was deflecting. 

Maybe it was both. 

“I cannot keep watching this,” Loki muttered, his expression tight. “Parker, JARVIS is correct. Even with all of your skills and your cleverness, you’re not going to get out of here.”

Peter frowned. “Did you just… compliment me? And crush my hopes at the same time? Dude, come on _._ ”

“There’s another choice though,” Loki said. “If you still wish to—“

“Wait, hold up,” Peter said, the reality of the situation hitting all at once. “Were you seriously spying on me this whole time?”

Loki shrugged, his face twisting in that ‘yeah, guess I did, can’t change the past now’ sort of way.

“Aw man,” Peter pouted. “I thought Bartok was cool.”

“In my defence,” said Loki, holding up his hands as if in surrender. “This was entirely Anthony’s idea.”

“Oh, of course it was,” Peter huffed. “Because setting an AI on me wasn’t enough– oh no, I needed a literal _god_ watching over me.”

“Don’t worry,” Loki said drily. “Anthony already made the guardian angel joke.”

Peter pulled a face.

“I have done my best to ensure that you remain safe,“ Loki continued, but Peter didn’t let him get any further.

“You almost got me killed by a robot pigeon!” he exclaimed. “How is _that_ being a good babysitter?”

“Were it not for the robot pigeon, that simply would have kept you entertained for a few more minutes,” Loki insisted. “JARVIS had the top of the shaft locked, you would have been fine.” Then he paused, and glanced to the ceiling. “You are _not_ to tell Anthony about that.”

“I would never, Mr Liesmith,” JARVIS said, and Loki narrowed his eyes like he didn’t quite believe it.

Peter was entirely aware that he was being dramatic, but he couldn’t help but add, “I nearly _died_ —“

“I was ready to catch you with my seiðr had you not saved yourself,” Loki huffed, turning his attention back to Peter. “You cannot honestly believe I would let you fall to your death– not when Anthony has promised me unrestricted warfare on Captain Rogers for the—“

“No, hang on. I’ve heard the story of how you threw Mr Stark off the top of the Tower—“

“That was an entirely different circumstance.” Loki’s lip curled into a smirk. “You are far less irritating than he is.”

Peter laughed in spite of himself. “I’m sure the alien invasion had _nothing_ to do with it,” he snorted.

“Of course not.” Loki smiled somewhat fondly. “Explain then, Mr Parker. Where do you plan to go from here?”

Peter sighed, throwing back his head. “I don’t know,” he groaned. “The Tower’s locked tight, and I know JARVIS isn't going to let me out. And I don’t suppose you’re going to go against Mr Stark and teleport me—“ He stopped, and turned to Loki with the beginnings of a hopeful smile. “Hang on. You changed back because you had an idea, didn’t you?”

“Just a thought.” Loki shrugged. “Tell me again– why are you so desperate to escape the Tower?”

“My friends are out there,” Peter sighed, deciding to tell the truth. “They’re out there, having fun like we planned. And I’m just stuck in here, covered in goop.” He shook a particularly large globule off his wrist for extra emphasis

“So why don’t you just bring them here?” Loki asked, tilting his head.

“Well, Michelle doesn’t know that I’m Spider-Man, but she doesn’t really like Halloween anyway. She says she likes the spiritual side of it, but that the way it’s been commercialised and used to encourage the endorsement of—“

“What about your other friend?” Loki interrupted. “I heard you tell Anthony that you had made arrangements with—“

“Well, yeah, Ned would love to come to Avengers Tower,” Peter said. _Obviously_. “But Mr Stark said…” Peter trailed off, frowning. Mr Stark had never actually said anything about him bringing people over. “Oh. _Oh._ ”

Loki smiled, his green eyes glinting with what Peter could only describe as pride.

“Okay,” said Peter. “Okay. So. I can call Ned, but I don’t think JARVIS is going to let me let him in, and it’s a long way here from Queens, and Ned’s parents don’t own a car and the subway on Halloween probably is a little bit—“

“I will fetch your friend,” Loki cut in. “You focus on what you are going to do when he gets here.”

What they were– wait, what?

Peter narrowed his eyes. “You don’t mean…”

Loki stared back unblinkingly. “You wanted to show them what you were capable of, didn’t you?”

Well. _That_ was a cause Peter could get behind.

“Hey JARVIS?” asked Peter, his lips curving up into a grin. “Does DUM-E have any more of this green stuff hidden away somewhere?”

“Mr Parker,” JARVIS replied happily. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Peter!” Ned exclaimed the moment he appeared in the penthouse. “The Avengers were fighting a heap of vampires on Broadway, and the news says one of them is Dracula, Peter why aren’t you– oh my god.” Ned’s eyes were wide as he stared around the living room, where every single inch of the place was covered in thick strands of spider webs. “Peter, I think Tony Stark is actually going to kill you this time.”

“Anthony could never do that,” Loki said dismissively before Peter could even begin to think of a response. “If he rid himself of Spider-Man, he would no longer have anyone to look at him with pathetic adoration.”

“I don’t know,” Peter said, his smile that of a man who knew he was about to put his name down for death row but enjoying the ride anyway. “He’d still have you, wouldn’t he?”

Loki turned to Peter, his expression dark and terrifying in exactly the same way as when Hawkeye had skewered the TV with an arrow right in the middle of an episode of Downton Abbey– though his hands weren’t clenched, and there was something about the way his cheeks twitched that made it seem like he was trying to hide a smile.

“Thank you, by the way,” Ned blurted, and boy was Peter glad for the distraction. “Wow. You’re a real god, _and_ an Avenger—“

“He’s still on probation,” Peter cut in.

“Yes, thank you, Parker, and I doubt that _this_ is going to help my case,” Loki said, not really sounding like he minded all that much. God of chaos or whatever, Peter supposed. Loki let up on the glare and turned to poke at one of the webs. “These will work?”

“Definitely,” Peter agreed. “And DUM-E is blending us some more of his special smoothies, and JARVIS has promised he’s not going to ruin everything.”

“I believe this will be a good learning exercise,” JARVIS confirmed.

“Peter,” said Ned, frowning. “What exactly are you doing?”

“The Avengers locked me up in here, so we’re going to show them why that wasn’t such a good idea.” Peter grinned at his friend, wide and dangerous. (At least, he wanted to _believe_ it looked dangerous. The way Loki was hiding a laugh behind his hand said otherwise.)

“Oh,” said Ned, and although he looked excited by the prospect, his ever-present caution kicked in. “Peter, are you sure—“

“Don’t worry,” said Peter. “If we get in trouble, I’m just going to blame everything on Loki.”

And when Loki merely rolled his eyes at that, Peter figured it was probably the start of a beautiful friendship.

The penthouse was absolutely pitch black, as JARVIS had darkened the windows and even turned off the little blinking lights on all the electronics. The loudest sound in the room was that of Ned’s breathing, and even then Peter could still hear the quiet grind of the elevator as it came to rest at the right level.

Peter grinned as he heard the doors start to open.

_Trick or treat!_

“Maybe we should—“

“Shh,” Peter hissed, giving Ned a shove for good measure.

“But there are assassins in there,” Ned hissed back.

Thankfully, it seemed that Mr Stark took the initiative rather than one of the members of the team who were, well, more likely to respond to an intruder with lethal force.

“Pete? You in here?”

“Oh, yeah, don’t worry, the power went out,” Peter called. “I swear, I had nothing to do with it!”

“Peter, the elevator got us up here. There’s a backup generator.”

“Well, I don’t know. Things just went dark, and now I can’t see anything to even try a light switch.”

“Oh, for god’s sake.” That was Black Widow’s voice, and a moment later the Avengers were illuminated by the flashlight on her phone.

“What the _hell?”_ said Hawkeye, eyes widening as he caught sight of the room that was absolutely draped in spider webs, like the forest in The Hobbit.

That was when DUM-E saw his chance to shine. Peter hadn’t wanted him to miss out on seeing the results of his hard work, and was immensely glad he’d asked Loki to bring him up when the bot came charging out of the kitchen with an excited squeal, surprising the Avengers into jumping out of the elevator and toward the webs.

JARVIS followed the plan, suddenly brightening the room to max and almost blinding all but the Asgardians and the two teenagers who had thought ahead and wore sunglasses, sending the room into absolute chaos.

Despite retaining his sight Thor charged anyway and ran straight into a web and got stuck, much to Loki’s enjoyment. DUM-E whirred happily as he sprayed a heap of the marvellous green goo all over Thor’s head, his claw flinging the re-purposed fire-extinguisher about like he was on a mission. Thor seemed to think it was hilarious, and roared in encouragement of DUM-E’s battle prowess.

“Oh my _god_!” gasped Ned, and despite the green dripping down his cheek he hardly seemed to notice that he was in the middle of a melee. “You’re Bruce Banner!”

“What is this stuff?” Bruce complained, wiping some of it out of his hair.

“It’s all right, it's just spinach, lemon juice, and a load of gelatine,” said Mr Stark, viciously trying to shake a bit of webbing off his left hand. (He hadn’t been smoothied yet. Unacceptable.)

Captain America hummed from where he was stuck to the back of the couch. “I thought it smelled like citrus.”

“I don’t think spinach glows like that,” said Agent Romanoff from where she was hanging upside down above the coffee table, her legs wrapped in webs and her black uniform dripping green.

Hawkeye spat some out and screwed up his nose. “Certainly doesn’t taste like spinach.”

The best part, though, _had_ to be when Loki moved some of Peter’s webs with magic to catch Mr Stark by the ankles, giving Peter the chance to nail him with his super-soaker full of experimental smoothie.

Mr Stark complained for _ages_ afterwards about betrayals from all sides, but he wasn’t angry with either of them really. In fact, the way he grinned when he thought no one was looking and muttered a thank you to JARVIS under his breath merely told Peter what he already knew– Mr Stark really had been trying.

Plus, if he were being honest– Peter really didn’t like vampires. He didn’t mind missing out on that fight so much.

And when Mr Stark handed over a pile of chocolate pumpkins with an apologetic “I know you said it wasn’t about the candy, but…” Peter didn’t even care that they were both covered in DUM-E’s special smoothie. He gave Mr Stark a hug anyway.

So, you know.

Halloween turned out to be pretty great after all.

**Author's Note:**

> (In case anyone is wondering, Thor totally destroyed all Dracula's vampires with his lightning. They won't be coming back any time soon.)
> 
> Loki as a bat was mostly inspired by [this photo](https://wpr-public.s3.amazonaws.com/ttbook/styles/newsletter-email/s3/images/bat-1268650_1920.jpg). Originally, the bat was just going to be a bat.
> 
> And of course, Peter definitely gets his debrief at the end of it. A+.


End file.
